


Despoiled Divinity

by IrenkaFeralKitty, Rarmae



Series: Dream Dust [15]
Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Genre: Abuse of illusion powers, Almost Vomiting, Illusions, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Objectification, Vomiting, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rarmae/pseuds/Rarmae
Summary: Rajura wakes up in the early morning hours to divest himself of old desires beginning to reawaken, but his sex drive isn't the only thing that comes back to him.
Series: Dream Dust [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809439
Kudos: 1
Collections: Dream Dust





	Despoiled Divinity

**Author's Note:**

> Rajura's backstory and portrayal is based on his character in the Dream Dust RPG played by Rarmae. Scenario created by Rarmae. Shuu's dialog written by lily_l_bell.

He was glad to make it to the bathroom undisturbed. Right now, he couldn’t deal with the Troopers’ insanity nor his fellow Masho’s constant angsting. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. 

Rajura pressed himself against the closed door, hating everything. Why did all this have to happen? Things had been fine in the Youjakai, everything had been under control there. Two weeks away from home and Rajura’s own body was defying him. The one thing he should have been able to count on when everything else was insane and even that was in full revolt. 

Determinedly, Rajura straightened up and moved purposefully towards the mirror. The sight he beheld was awful. His hair was stretched and flattened in unpleasant ways, sweat beaded across his skin, and there were faint lines on his skin from pressing his face into the bedding. 

Worst of all was the red tinged flush that marred his cheeks, one of the few visible signs of his sudden shocking state of arousal.

It had been well over a century since he’d felt any hint of sexual desire, well over a century since he’d begged Arago for forgiveness for letting himself be distracted from attending to his master by pleasures of the flesh. Arago had demanded he prove himself by turning to abstinence, and he’d thought he’d managed it. But then had come Shuten’s horrific revelation about how Arago had manipulated their very bodies and Rajura had to face the horrifying certainty that not only had Arago made him sterile, but that Arago had likely twisted his body’s cravings so that he’d become obsessed with matters of the flesh. Arago had turned his desires into just another way to manipulate and control him. 

And now _this._

Rajura pressed his hand to his crotch and hissed at the shiver of pleasure that slithered up his spine as he fondled his engorged cock. Fuck, fuck, he remembered this. 

Satiating this need in his body had been all consuming once-

But that hadn’t been his need, it had been Arago’s will forced upon him, and Rajura _would not let him keep winning._

On a whim, Rajura reached for the new magics he’d been granted and summoned a small illusion. Aster appeared and giggled soundlessly at him, winking and waving with obvious delight. He reached out for her, only to have his fingers pass straight through her. 

So, he could look but not touch. That was fine. It was basically exceptionally detailed porn and Rajura had always _loved_ porn. 

Aster wasn’t for him, though. She was Shuu’s fantasy, as much as the younger man tried not to admit it. Perhaps…

The illusion shimmered and Tsubaki blushed at him, her fan snapping open so she could hide her face. The delicate dryad was much closer to those he’d bedded in the past, and yet… It was wrong putting her in this position. Tsubaki was no geisha or high-end prostitute, she was a truly delicate woman and not fodder for crude masturbation.

Frowning, Rajura dismissed the illusion. He reached for his crotch, tentatively squeezing his cock again and shuddered. It was too much without something else to focus on. He needed _something_ to distract himself with... But what?

Almost involuntarily, Rajura’s eyes were drawn to the bathroom door and, by implication, all those who lay beyond it. 

There was _one_ person’s image he might be able to use…

This time, the image that appeared was Kongo no Shuu. The “derp” expression Rajura was always amused by was the first thing he beheld. Shuu stared around the bathroom with wide eyes, his head jerking back and forth. Then, however, Rajura exerted a tiny bit of willpower and Shuu shrugged, seeming to accept his new surroundings. He grinned at Rajura and that was when Rajura knew this would work. 

Shuu’s eyes skimmed over him, shyly, but also curiously. Beefy arms folded when Shuu threaded his fingers behind his head and Rajura inhaled slowly, _deeply_ at the flex of thick pectoral muscles. 

Oh, yes, this was _very_ good. 

Rajura began to disrobe, keeping his eyes locked on Shuu. He was wracking his brain now, trying to remember what exactly Shuu looked like under his clothes. His chest and arms were familiar territory - Shuu was going through shirts at an astonishing rate. But his thighs, calves, buttocks, and cock - those he kept appropriately concealed and those were features Rajura was suddenly keenly interested in. 

He’d only really looked once when Shuu had been levitated into the air during their first visit to the bathhouse. Rajura hadn’t been able to keep from looking then, not with Shuu being dangled in the air in front of all the men of their group. He hadn’t looked since, however, and Rajura could almost curse his lack of attention and adherence to good manners. 

It would have to be enough.

Shuu waggled his eyebrows at Rajura when he was fully naked and then the illusion began to disrobe as well. He was shy, naturally, because Shuu really was shy about being naked, but also eager. His dark eyes kept peeking out to look at Rajura and the way his hands fumbled with his clothes meant Rajura had plenty of time to just look.

The stripping continued until Shuu was down to his pineapple patterned undergarments and even an illusion Rajura had full control over began to dwaddle. Rolling his eye, Rajura activated the shower, still marveling at the simple mechanism, while also sternly (silently) commanding his illusion to finish disrobing.

Happily, by the time the water reached the temperature Rajura preferred, Shuu was naked in all his masculine glory and climbing into the bathing enclosure with him. 

Rajura bathed quickly, deliberately skimming his hands over himself as he made careful use of the soap Nasutei had provided. He washed his hair, applied the conditioner she’d explained, and all the while enjoyed watching Shuu move and turn, pose and flex. The thick cock Rajura felt fairly confident giving him was beautifully erect and a match to the state Rajura’s organ was in. 

Even without a functioning sex drive, Rajura couldn’t believe he’d forgone experimenting with his powers this way before. There was true art in having such a perfect display of masculinity before him and Rajura had always loved art.

Rajura used his toes to shift the bathtub’s plug into place and watched Shuu for another few minutes as the water level began to rise. Once it was at a good height, he grabbed a lacquered chopstick from the basket hanging from the shower head and used it to put his hair up and get it out of the way. Then, he hit the control that diverted water from the faucet to the shower head and sank down to sit in the water.

Shuu traded places with him without seeming to move. He wasn’t actually here, after all, so why bother with an awkward shuffle of bodies? 

“It’s a pity there’s nothing to touch,” Rajura murmured almost without realizing it. Shifting onto his knees, he confirmed this put Shuu’s crotch right at mouth height. His illusion smirked and wrapped a meaty hand around himself, ready to offer the tasty thick shaft to Rajura. 

Instead of swallowing him down, Rajura sighed and reached through the illusion to turn off the flow of water. 

Shuu shrugged, smiling sheepishly as Rajura sat back in the water. He let himself just enjoy the heat soaking into his body before opening his eye and reaching between his legs. The part of him still frightened by arousal whimpered as he touched himself, but Rajura resolutely pushed that away as he began to slowly move his hand. Shuu copied him, blushing like crazy but still putting on a good show for him to watch. 

Heat sizzled through him as Rajura continued to stroke himself. It wasn’t long before he had to clamp a hand over his own mouth to muffle the helpless sounds that wanted to escape. This wasn’t a private bath with a single trusted servant keeping watch, this was a closet with a fancy water heating system and a thin door. Privacy was challenging at best, even at this hour. 

Shuu moaned silently as he continued to pleasure himself and Rajura felt his own hips rocking as his need grew. Tension began to coil in his stomach, promising his first release in over a century. Anticipation bit eagerly at him, all but salivating at the idea of the ecstasy about to unfold for him.

Rajura squeezed his eye shut as a strong pulse of desire went through him. _Fuck,_ but he was close. 

He opened his eye, his mind humming happily with ideas for what to make Shuu look like as he came-

It wasn’t Shuu. It was-

_Gods help him._

A familiar face smiled down at Rajura and a nude body waited for his perusal. 

_“Well, Jirou-chan?”_ a memory whispered to him. _“Are you going to be a good boy and show me how much you love me?”_

No, no, no-

Rajura wanted to stop, but couldn’t. An illusionary hand wrapped around an illusionary cock and Rajura remembered how it felt in his mouth, shoving into his throat, and the taste of the seed shooting out of it. 

_“You love me, don’t you? Look what all I’ve done for you. Don’t make me punish you again, Jirou-chan. It’s always days before I can have you again when I have to do that. And you hate that. You know what I want.”_

Fear and need slammed into him, dragging him helplessly through a sudden orgasm. He remembered- _he remembered-_

_How he’d learned to perform, to respond so that he wouldn’t be hurt anymore, so he’d be given food and a chance to bathe and dress-_

_He’d dishonored himself by being captured, he should have died, they should have killed him, but by living, he had to fight to try and redeem himself-_

_He didn’t like hurting or the hunger that had gnawed at him and taken over his mind before- before-_

_“Just remember what I want and I’ll take care of you.”_

The illusion shattered before Rajura’s orgasm ended. And Rajura shook. 

He managed to remember to pull the plug on the bathtub after some of his own release floated against his skin. He managed to keep from turning the shower back on as hot as it would go to scour the feel of it from his body. He managed not to scream because _how had he forgotten?_

Even as his body had learned to perform like a twisted trained animal, Rajura had hated him. There had been a small part that loved him because he did give Rajura food, he did give him pleasure… but mostly, Rajura had feared him because the hand that touched him often did so to deliver stinging blows or bind him _“for a bit of extra fun”_ that usually resulted in blood, or…

He was paraded around outside the soft looking torture chambers like some kind of _pet._

The water drained from the tub, leaving Rajura naked and cold. He was shaking and shivering and all he wanted to do was cry-

_This wasn’t the time to cry._

He couldn’t. He _wouldn’t._ He was in _control_ of himself, damn it!

_He couldn’t let anyone see him like this._

Rajura pressed his hands to his face, feeling his breath catching in his throat as it came faster and faster. His mind was swirling, thoughts skittered from one thing to another, always centered on _him_ and nausea was churning and rising in his gut. The flavor of bile reached his tongue and Rajura knew he was moments from vomiting-

 _I don’t want to remember him,_ he thought brokenly. Terror began to build, because what else was he going to remember now? How much of what he’d done was going to return to haunt Rajura’s dreams in a way Fumiko had kept at bay-

 _Fuck,_ she was tied into this, too, wasn’t she? She’d held the worst of it back for a time but couldn’t let go once he’d started to recover-

_No, no, I am in control! For once in my life, I am my own master!_

But he wasn’t, was he? He never had been, he was destined to always be someone’s slave-

The bile surged in his throat. Rajura lunged for the toilet-

 _"You spoiled priss. Are you gonna make me dance around you? Huh? Yes, I figured you were. Now, I'm going to be mad if you trip me. Ow! Tarea! No! No climby my leggy! No! Come here. Yes, princess, I shall be your royal footman and you are extra beautiful, because are you ever not? No. I didn't think it possible either.”_  
  
The boisterous voice from outside the bathroom cut straight through Rajura’s panic.

Mostly because of how fucking _random_ the words were.

But also… 

Rajura hung over the toilet, his throat still wanting to gag, and listened desperately for Shuu to keep talking. 

_“I think a little tiny bit of tuna is in her majesty's future? If she doesn't bully Bya and take his? Hmm? Yes. As generous as she is gorgeous. What a fine queen you are, Tarea."_

He felt his throat bulging some as the gag reflex continued to engage, but Rajura just concentrated on Shuu’s voice, on the nonsensical way he talked, how silly he sounded talking to Anubisu’s nightmare of a cat.

_"You know, I bet it'd be awesome to be you for a while. Just, flop over in a sun beam. Bully a tiger. You know, the kind of big dick energy only found in tiny puddy tats. Don't tell anyone, they'll be jealous of our talks, Girlfriend."_

Of course Shuu wanted to be a cat.

Taking a few tentative breaths, Rajura backed away from the toilet, knowing that staring into it like he was could easily re-trigger his gag reflex. 

Daisuke wasn’t here. 

Fumiko wasn’t here.

Shuu was here, just outside, baby talking to the most spoiled creature in the Youjakai.

Gradually, Rajura found the shredded remains of his dignity and pulled them on like he did his clothing. Each layer was comforting, sitting precisely where he wanted it and covering up that which shouldn’t be seen in polite society. 

_His body wasn’t for anyone’s eyes but his. The only other people who would see him would be those he chose. He wouldn’t be controlled like that ever again._

Shuu kept talking outside and Rajura kept listening, going so far as to sit on the floor while leaning against the door, so he could hear better. Tarea wasn’t being exclaimed over anymore and Shuu had seemingly turned his attention to obtaining ingredients from the replicator the naga had given them. He could have simply ordered a specific meal or possibly input his own recipes for the machine to make, but he still preferred to prepare their meals by hand. 

It was Shuu’s own form of meditation, really, and Rajura… liked… that Shuu wanted to do this for them. He fed them with the labor of his own hands, watched them eagerly to see how they reacted, and made an effort to find something special for each of them when the opportunity arose.

Shuu cared, and he didn’t worry about people noticing. He didn’t hide… anything, really. He was shy and awkward when it came to matters of the heart, but that was-

It was because he cared and wanted to be cared for. Not in a way that twisted need and power, but because he liked taking care of people and knowing he wasn’t just a joke to people. Shuu had greater depth than even he realized and-

And the panic was gone.

There was an echo of it in the back of his mind and too much time alone could let it return, but it was actually under control again.

Rajura closed his eye and worked to center himself, passing his mind across his body and sternly checking to make sure all was well within himself. Once that was complete, he slowly stood and examined himself in the mirror. 

His hair needed fixing, as it was starting to dry a bit oddly. He spent a few minutes adjusting what he could see and feeling what he couldn’t, then carefully adjusted his eye patch so it sat in place. 

Another thing he’d forgotten - Daisuke had been the one to take it and doing so had sealed his own fate when Gen finally came to him. 

It was fine. It was absolutely fine, Rajura could handle these returning memories and awakened urges. He would master his body once more and ensure that he didn’t lose control of his illusions ever again. 

The very idea of it was offensive.

Rajura adjusted his clothing once more and finally felt like he was back to normal. _(Mostly.)_

"Mornin' sunshine,” Shuu called out in greeting as Rajura stepped out of the bathroom. “The earth says Hello."

"We're not on earth anymore, remember?" Rajura retorted, the response flowing completely naturally.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty. I forget myself, nihao from dirt-town."

Shaking his head and rolling his eye, Rajura resisted the urge to deploy _The Finger_ and headed for the balcony. He just needed a few more minutes of peace to be ready to face the day. Surely today would be alright. For once, surely he could have today.


End file.
